Making it Home
by mamabot
Summary: Takes place after All the Queen's Horses. Benton x Maggie. Will include Franny, Ray and of course Diefenbaker. Yes I know this is fantasy and RCMP protical is not followed. But then again, creative licence has been emblised a lot in the fanfic world. Mush, sweetness, snipers, and intamacy of the heart. Use your imagination, 'kay?
1. Chapter 1

Making it Home

**a/n Takes place after _All the Queen's Horses._ Benton x Maggie. Includes Diefenbaker and Ray, Franny too.. I wrote this back in May of 1997 and just now pulling it out of my spiral notebook**

_Inside the stable-train car, face to face, Benton and Maggie have their hands cuffed around each other's backs. He tugs the hairpin from her beautiful scented mane with his teeth. As he tries to turn it round in his mouth, it slips out. It slips down into her cleavage. His cheeks burn bright. She knows they don't have a choice… nor does she mind that much._

_"Sorry," he meekly mutters._

_With a soft nod, she gives the gentleman permission. Tipping her head back, gives him room to room to retrieve it. She closes her eyes wishing they were somewhere else and there was no pin. The tip of his tongue, and she has to bite down hard on her own or release a moan. He is no fool. Trying to be a gentleman, he can feel her bowing in his arms. He knows she is melting and finding it hard to hold her Inspector façade._

_He lifts his soft and warm face from her feminine attributes. She tries to hide her reaction. He tries not to notice her attempt to hide. They lean closer. Both ever so grateful. One to bring them closer to touch, and yet hiding their facial expressions._

_The pin drops into his hands, thank goodness he doesn't miss in his desire to inhale her scent. She doesn't flinch at the feel of his soft breath on her neck. His arms tighten around her. Her own face buries into his neck. She knows… it would be innocent enough, she could steal a taste of his skin._

_NO!_

_"Got it!" He sighs._

_Damn!, she internally hisses._

"Damn!" Inspector Margret Thatcher tosses in her sleep over the nightmare-fantasy-reality that eludes her once again.

"Damn."

That moment just will not leave her dreams.

~~00~~

_The train is moving at high speed. Under his feet the rest of the Mounties are sound asleep in their drugged state. On top, she is begging him not to go. It's too dangerous and.. And… and.._

_She lets it slip that she cares more than she should._

_Slowly he steps forward and folds her to his own care. Bending over her smaller frame, lifts her chin to meet his lips. Wrapping her tighter into his grip, takes her worries upon himself. He makes it clear, he cares more than he should as well. Oblivious to the world, the train speeds along. Even as the bridge comes along and removes the crown of his Stetson, he continues to kiss her into oblivion._

_Rolling over in his sleep, Benton sighs in contentment of the forbidden memory. Diefenbaker watched his master toss in his sleep. The wolf's groan, finally awakens the master. Staring into those deep souls canine eyes, "What? Oh mind your own business."_

_The white fluffy head tips to the side in puzzled expression. The master turns away from the interrogating wolf. He can't go back to sleep. The taste of her lips is still there. He can't shake her from his dreams. The nightmares are reality._

_He tries to drift back to sleep … but…_

_Astride the horseflesh, the object of his infatuation is settled up against his back, arms tight around his waist. If only they could remain this way. He would like to just take off over that rise and ride on until morning. Take her away. Take her to happily ever after. Take her away from the world. To show her… the beauty of his world alone with her. Just.. Her._

_"Just so there is no misunderstanding. It won't happen again. Unless under the exact same circumstances."_

_His heart plummets at the truth of her world. Did she really have to kill him this way? Swallowing hard, he tries to rise about his pain to face the truth, "Run away train full of drugged Mounties headed for doom. Right?"_

_He kills her dream right back, and yet gives her hope. Could fate be son kind to give them another chance? _

_"Right. Understood?" She kills his hopes again._

_"Understood," he feels her dying as well. But her hand pans across his belly to show, she is not sorry for their stolen moment. A bittersweet truth. Her head lays against his back as well trying to soak up ever last moment they have. He covers her hand on his soft trembling belly and squeezes_.

Maggie wakes up, recalling that ride as well. "Why did I tell him that?" Sitting up, stares out her window wishing she could take her words back and yet knowing… it had to be said. "Damn."

~~00~~

That day at work….

Once again, the Constable is punished by standing guard out side. Pulling up, she sees him. She knows he is strong and won't budge. Hesitating, ponders if she should try teasing or torture him. The thought fleets by quickly, and she dashes inside. For she knows, the torture will be more for herself than for him. Just staring at him is hell enough.

Locking herself in her office, curses herself. "No, it's only a phase. It will pass. It has to." She prays.

Walking to his own dinky office, settles into the crouched room and begins his paperwork. His eyes have a mind of their own and drift towards her closed door. Deif looks up to him and whines. Dropping a hand to the furry head, watches the closed door, "I'm so confused. She's something else, isn't she?"

Diefenbaker barks. Benton gives the wolf his full attention. Placing a paw in his tanned lap, Benton ruffles the fur. Just as he leans down to nuzzle the companion's forehead, her door opens.

She sees a man and his wolf spending time together. Her heart softens. So sweet and compassionate and yet so devoted to Canada. How can a heart so big fit in side a mere human?

His head turns and catches her eyes. She freezes. He freezes. Beginning to rise, she slams the door closed. She has retreated. He is left confused. Dief looks between confused master and barricaded door.

Later that day, riding with Ray, he is more than his usual quiet self. Completely self absorbed.

"Hello Benny? Anyone in there?"

His thoughts break at the sound of his nickname, "Hm? What?"

"What is with you? You are _so _lost in thought. You know, ever since that train trip, you have been acting very weird. Are you sure you weren't hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." The answer is too bland more than proving the point that he is anything but fine. Dief groans to punctuate the sentence.

"Even the wolf doesn't believe you." Dief barks to emphasize his point. Ray thumbs back to the fluff backseat rider, "See."

Benton leans against the window and mutters, "It's her. She's avoiding me."

"What? I didn't quite hear that." Ray pushes. Ben turns and glares at his friend. Yes, he did hear just wants more insight. So Ray pushes, "Dragon Lady? Isn't it good that she's ignoring you?"

Ben pulls himself back up and looks straight head to avoid the inquisitive looks from his two best friends. "We are supposed to go back to Quebec next week to give statements as to what happened. She goes deliberately out of my way to avoid me. I look up from my desk to look at her and she shut her door in my face. She saw me and closed me off. I don't understand."

Ray curses, "Women in authority!" Turning the next corner, he changes the subject, so he thinks, "Hey you never did tell me what happened to your hat."

Too quick a response, "Nothing!" Dief groans and buries his nose in his paw. Benton shoots the furry friend a 'shut up' look. The poor thing whines.

"Why don't I believe you, hm?" Then narrows his own interrogating gaze. "Something is going on that makes her avoid you. What's happened in that stable car?"

Benton's cheeks flame at the reminder of that moment. The taste of her skin on the tip of his tongue. The scent of her hair. The feel of her soft warm body against his own. The feel of her mouth soothing his…

"Benton Fraiser! You are blushing!"

"Stop the car!"

"Not until you tell me-"

"There goes your contact!" the fellow law enforcement officer points.

Braking hard, Fraiser leaps from the car and hurries down the sidewalk.

Ray cries out, "Wait! Where-? I don't see-!" Then it hits him, "HEY! Get back here Benny!" Thrusting the seat forward, Ray points, "Go get him Dief!" With out a hesitation, the wolf follows the orders.

Benton walks on trying to clear his head. It's bad enough that he is trying to sort this all out, he certainly doesn't need to try explaining this to Ray. The last he needs is to defend her to Ray. After all, Ray could be right. Clenching his fists, stomps on raging against his heart and duty.

At the park, he finally sits, and drops his head to his hands. Within moments, Diefenbaker is at his side. Burying his muzzle up and into his master's hands, licks the face that he cares so much for. It hurts him to see his companion so confused.

Looking into the warm eyes, Benton asks, "So what do you think?" The ears perk. "She's not so bad. Hard, tough, maybe a little cold, but she has to be. She's beautiful. In control. Focused. Smart." He sighs.

Ray approaches seeing Benton talking softly to his companion. "Ben, please. What has gotten into you? What does Dragon Lady have you chasing now?"

Slowly the RMCP Officer lifts his head, "Herself. But I don't think she knows hit herself. I didn't until just now."

Ray's jaw drops. When he can finally take a breath, he gasps, "WHAT?!"

Benton can't help but chuckle at his friend's reaction. Rising, he tries to close the conversation, "Come on. We need to go or we will be late. Sorry about lying to you, but I needed some fresh air."

Ray's mouth flaps like a fish, "Wha-what? Will you tell me what is going on because I am sooo confused."

"Love, Ray. It's called love." With that, the serge back strides back to the detective's vehicle. Dief follows at his side.

Slowly Ray turns even more agassed than before, "Du-wha? Fraiser?!"

Constable Fraiser returns to the consulate. Laying a hand to the door handle, he looks down to Dief for support. The fuzzy muzzle encourages him. "Okay, but am I completely insane?"

Dief drops his head in shame and slinks back to his master's office. Ben takes the hint. He knocks.

"Yes?"

He enters his superior's office. Seated behind her desk, raises her eyes to the dark head tormentor of her dreams. He shuts the door behind him never breaking eye contact. She tries to protest, but he cuts her off.

"We need to talk."

"Um, about what?" she tries to pull out of his blue eyes.

"The train."

Fumbling she tries to organize papers that don't need to be, "No we don't."

Leaning over the desk, stills her hands with his. She looks at his larger warm hands holding hers so softly but heavily, "Constable," she tries to warn, but fails.

"Ma'am, I believe we need to discuss what will happen in Quebec."

Still refusing to face him, rolls her neck to be professional, "They'll ask us some questions and we will answer them. What else is there to say?" He doesn't answer. "I really have a lot to do.

Turning one of her hands over he traces the palm, "It would make sense of us to travel up there together seeing how I don't own a car."

She softens to his touch, "Constable, please…. Leave me alone."

A husky whisper answers, "No."

Maggie finds the strength to look into those blue eyes, "Please get out of my life."

He returns the threat, "Then transfer me back to the North West Territories."

It pains her heart to hear that. She only wanted him out of her dreams. Not really out of her life. Or did she? Turning her face away, she also pulls her hand out of his touch. Standing, she turns her back on him.

"Please leave my office."

Stepping to the side of the desk, she can feel his presence so close. Close enough to touch, and yet fighting herself not to. Crossing her arms, grips them to keep from gripping him and the way that uniform fits him body and soul. Reminding him how much they are alike and yet forbidden.

"Tell me it meant nothing to you. Tell me you didn't feel it too?"

Digging her nails into her arms, she fights to keep from burying herself in his strong arms. Where ever she got the strength from, she will never know and will curse it. Stiffening, faces him sternly.

"Constable Fraiser, are you disobeying a direct order from a superior officer? Get out of here! Leave me alone. I will send you a memo later."

Shocked to her response, he obliges and steps back. He searches her face to see if the words came honestly from her heart.

"Well?" she snaps.

"Very well. I'll leave. But I will be back until you send me home."

"DON'T tempt me!" she snarls with herself.

Leaving her office, he closes the door. A deep sigh of regret to his actions, he walks away. That is until he hears her office being ripped apart by her own hands. Heavy objects being thrown and her swearing repeatedly, "Damn him, damn him, damn him!"

Then she slumps down into her chair nearly sobbing, "Get out of my life Benton Fraiser."

She looks at her wrecked office knowing it looks just like her heart. Contemplating for a few minutes, she finally finds the motive to move. Before her are openings for the North West Territories. Her smile beams.

"I'll get you out of my life, Fraiser!" and swiftly fills out the form.

With a new spring to her step, she yanks her door open to slam the form into his face. Only her plan backfires when he is right there in her door frame. She gasps.

"The transfer you requested."

"I changed my mind. I want to stay," he leans in too close, "with you."

She steps back, he steps forward.

"You're gorgeous in serge."

"No," she breathes. He steps forward, she steps back. "Benton…"

"Yes?"

He steps forward. She does not step back. His arm slips round her and draws her against him. She doesn't fight him this time. It's her chin that lifts and rising to her toes, commandeers the kiss. Stepping together into the office, the kiss deepens. The transfer flutters to the floor as she clutches his nape harder.

The door closes with the help of his boot heel. She pushes him back against it and he takes liberties to plunge the kiss even deeper. Her other hand is crushed between them when his second hand presses between her shoulder blades keeping them locked even tighter. A tear escaped her when the kiss begins to slow down to caresses and warmth.

This is when he pulls back and smiles. She blushes and buries her face against his collar.

"Damn you," she tugs his lariat.

a/n yes more to come. It will be a long story, fyi.


	2. Chapter 2

Coming Home 2

a/n Starclipper01, I found it!

Reminder to all, hit the you tube to catch Paul Gross singing _Robert Mackenzie _and of course _Ride Forever. _Also Sarah McLaughlin's _Possession._

Maggie's head rests against the crimson tunic of her subordinate. Her fingers twist in the snow white lariat trailing down his chest.

"Damn you," she whispers.

He doesn't help by chuckling lightly and gently rubbing up and down her back. Lightly she jerks the soft rope. He nuzzles into her temple and kisses it.

A knock on the door breaks their moment. She tries to pull back, but he shakes his head. Pressing one finger to his lips, motions for her to be quiet. Smiling, she stretches up and kisses him over that finger. Pulling it loose, he sucks in her essence.

Ray knocks again, "Hello? Inspector, I was looking for Constable Fraser. Hello? Anyone in there?"

He tries to open the door, but with Benton's weight and Maggie's pressing, it doesn't budge. Benton pulls back making little kisses over her.

Heated, she softly begs, "I. Want. You."

"Fraser? Are you in there? I have a lead on that case we were working on."

Ben holds her back and whispers back, "No. I was hurt that way once before. Not again."

Pulling back a little further, looks deep into his soft eyes. She can see the pain. He steps back and puts a hand to the handle. She straightens her suit and nods when she is ready. Benton opens the door.

"Hello Ray. Sorry, confidential conference."

Ray looks between Benton and Maggie. Ben's uniform is always immaculate, but touches of lipstick? Inspector Dragon Lady also always perfect an in control. Now nervous with smeared lipstick. Thrashed office? OH!

"The train?"

"Yes, Detective. What do you need?" Maggie tries to be rid of the Chicago officer.

Narrowing his gaze he gives a questioning tone, "Uh, can I borrow Benny? I mean the Constable?"

"Sure. We will resume later."

Ben cants his head to Ray, "I'll be right there. Just give me a moment," and shuts the door in his face before the detective can say anything more. Maggie has retreated back around her desk so he has to lean across. She slips a palm across his jaw as he leans in for his good-bye kiss.

"You're beautiful, Margret."

She snickers thumbing his lip, "And you are wearing lipstick."

Flushing lightly, she finds her tissues and dabs it off. "We leave at eight tomorrow. Pick me up at home." Reaching into her desk, she hands her keys across.

Accepting them nods, "I won't be late." With that, he slips out the door.

Maggie sinks to her chair and plants her forehead to the desk top. "What am I doing? Damn him."

Heading out of the consulate, Ray asks, "So what was that all about?"

Ignoring the prying looks, Ben responds, "Like you said, the train incident."

Ray steps in front of him halting the taller man, "No it's not. You still have smudges of lipstick.

Ben leans in, "Not here, not now." Stepping around the bewildered Ray, heads towards the car.

Ray turns on his heel and scratches his head, "Dragon Lady and Benny?" Looking up he bellows, "Hey! Wait up!"

~~00~~

Inside Benton's apartment, Ray watches his friend polish his boots and buttons while sipping a beer.

"So just what exactly happened on that train trip? What did I miss?"

"Oh you know the whole thing," Ben tries to avoid the interrogation.

"You're doing it again. Leaving out all the interesting pieces. Like what is going on between you and-"

"Ray," Benton lifts his head from the button making sure he has his friend's full attention, "listen to me very carefully. For I will only say this once. And I only tell you this because you are my friend. Listening?" Ray nods. Benton swallows hard and then speaks slowly. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell."

Ray spews his beer. The liquid spray lands on the wolf lighting a low growl.

Choking, Ray tries to formulate his thoughts, "Whoa, wait! You KISSED Dragon Lady? It that what happened to your hat?"

Benton shrugs.

"Oh my gosh…" Ray's brain begins formulating, "Damn, that must have been some kiss!"

Benton flushes and returns to his polishing.

"It was, wasn't it?!" he ponders a bit more putting it all together, "So she likes you. And this whole time you thought she hated you. She must have the hots pretty bad for you. And now you are both off to Quebec for celebrations and commendations."

"Inquisitions, don't forget," he snorts.

Ray snickers and leans in, "So did you mention the kiss in your report?"

Benton drops his hands and glowers at his friend, "Would you grow up? You don't realize how hard it has been at the office, okay? She's been avoiding me and I've been a bit confused myself."

"Except earlier today. I bet you picked up right where you left off. The lipstick, eh?"

Silently, Benton hangs up his uniform and puts his supplies away. Ray can see that maybe he has gone too far. Remembering how when he loved Victoria, he nearly lost his life. But being in love with your superior, it could kill his career. It would be just like running his heart through with a bullet.

"I'm sorry, Benny. You really care about her, don't you? She's beautiful but that cold, hard, fierce exterior-"

"-Is a front. There is a very real woman in there. Warm, alive, passionate woman underneath… if only she would let it out."

"Do you think you can?"

"I don't know." Tipping his head to the side, he smirks, "But I sure do admire her strength."

Ray asks very carefully, "Are you in love?"

Benton pulls away to finish the dishes, "Do you remember Victoria?"

"The bitch that shot my best friend?" Benton furrows his brow to the harsh words. But Ray isn't finished, "Yeah, I remember her. She nearly kill you."

He nods, "I know. I loved her badly and was betrayed. I can't go through that again."

Ray leans in supportively, "This one is different, Benny. She'll send to you to the Northwest Territories first."

He smiles, "She tried to. I even told her to."

Ray pulls on his beer and shakes his head, "You, my friend have it bad. Just be careful. It's your heart I worry about this time, not your life."

Benton laughs with him.

~~00~~

The next morning, Benton makes his way to her luxury apartment front door with Dief at his side. Softly he knocks on the door. In a warm sweater and black slacks, she answers the door. The stern face is back, but lit with warm eyes. Slowly her smile comes out. Silently, he takes the bags from her hands and smiles back. Silently they walk together to the car. Diefenbaker looks between them both.

Benton loads the bags and she asks, "Is he coming too?"

"I couldn't leave him in Chicago alone. Besides, he hasn't seen Quebec."

"He's a wolf. Shouldn't he be able to survive on his own?"

"Not here." Then softly he looks to his furry friend, "I'll miss him." Dief nuzzles into his caretaker's hand.

Maggie leans into Benton, "But you'll have me." Dief begins to growl.

Benton looks to the wolf and admonishes him with a stern tone, "Diefenbaker! You know this was the deal. You be good!"

Ben gives her a lopsided smile and drops a kiss to her nose, "We best be going."

~~00~~

The long drive gives them a chance to talk a bit. Still they avoid certain topics. For the most part the drive is quite leaving each other to their own musings. Arguments and supports battle within minds and hearts. Weak smiles back and forth show the other one is feeling it too.

~~00~~

Finally they make it and check into their separate rooms. That night is a banquet. Fraser is obviously uncomfortable to be in the -what he considers- luxury accommodations. Parting the curtains, he sighs heavily. Back on his native soil, but not. His eyes drift northwest, then look down to the busy street below. What does he really want for his life? Where does he really want his future to go?

Seated at the banquet table that night with Thatcher and Frobisher he tries to keep from staring at her, but finds his eyes drifting back to her again. Smashing in a black beaded gown of silk straps no wider than his lariat. A single thread thin gold chain bears a tiny gold dipped real maple leaf. In his own full uniform, they make quite the pair.

Except they are not a couple. They are colleges. Co-workers. Subordinate and superior.

She reaches under the table to hook one finger through one of his. For this, he tears his gaze from her and back to the speaker.

"And for our next commendation,…" the speech drolls on until Frobisher jerks Fraser's elbow.

"Come on, we're up." Together, they join a few others and get their metals.

This lavished banquet becomes a blur. A blur of hell. He would like nothing better than to take her in his arms and dance her off into the moonlight. She would like nothing better than to feel his arms around her again. Safety. How many times has she been stuck with him and yet felt protected?

And as hell would have it too, music begins to play. A few couples make their way to the floor. Without really asking, slips his hand into hers. She squeezes and rises. Keeping his hands in proper position, they move together as if they were one.

"I-I had no idea you could dance," she eases.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I know," a painful truth that they really don't know each other. He knows it too. A deep breath accepts that. She tries to ease, "I'm sorry about your hat."

With a twinkle, he teases her back, "I'm not."

Her head bows. How can he do that? How can he just make her melt with a couple words and smile. She shakes her head.

"Hey, we'll figure this out, alright?" She nods. With a soothing thumb-rub to her clasped palm, he gives her a weak yet reassuring smile.

And then one of her fellow Inspectors comes in asking to cut in. Fraser has no choice, he steps back. Watching the rough treatment to his dance partner, Benton grimaces and clenches his fists. He can not afford to make a scene and destroy both of their careers. She shakes her head to Benton making it clear she is fine and not to worry. Still it kills him to see her in someone else's arms.

Frobisher leans in, "Look-it young Buck, if you want her, go get her."

Pulling his façade up tight, Benton glares back, "I have no idea what you mean."

Frobisher clamps down on the fellow crimson red elbow, "Don't be an idiot. Do not let her slip away."

Benton lean in and hisses, "It's not that easy. Careers are at stake."

Frobisher glares back with his own older wisdom, "Careers are not everything." With that, thrusts the foolish arm away.

Turning on his heel, Ben leaves the room. The terrace garden makes it easier to breathe. Diefenbaker is waiting for him, lifting his own paws to the wall and looking out over the city. Her world, not his.

Benton is not sure how long he is lost in his own muse until Dief whines and wanders away. Turning, he follows his wolf's target. Margret sitting on a bench wrapped up in her wool wrap with satin lining. He starts to move forward, but another superior comes to her side and they begin talking of business in Taranto. Benton turns away. She seems so happy to talk about the modern bustling city.

The ride back to Chicago is quieter than the trip up. Diefenbaker probably said more. For now, they are lost as to if there is ANYTHING between them. Or can there be? Or should there be? Will there ever be?

But no one wants to face the realities of it either. It's not just careers. They are from vastly two different worlds.

~~00~~

Some how acknowledging their attraction to each other is worse than holding it in. For now, if they make a move, it could destroy their lives and break hearts. How can being in love be such hell? Now more than ever, they find ways to be respectful, but keeping the distance from each other. They both know what is going on, but do not speak of it.

Too much honor and respect for each other. Secret smiles shot across to each other, speak more than words or kisses ever could. It's the supported look that shoots, _I love you, but I will not be the destruction of your life. I respect your honor too much to do that._

All this is fine until… that ship. That mission. That look. And he can not stop himself. She does not resist him. Curling himself over her, clutches her to his heart. She press in and holds him just as tight. She will not let him retreat.

This is not a chaste kiss. No, this one says, _I can not live without you. I can no longer play this game. I need you. I'm coming for you!_

Pulling up for air, they both can taste the truth on each other's lips. And yet…

"Hey Benny, what are-? Oh am I interrupting?" Ray sees the desperate look between the clutched RCMP officers.

Margret pulls back avoiding the truth. Ben is grateful for Ray's distraction staving of the discussion for later as well.

Chicago comes into view. The officers turn back to duty avoiding their personal life…. For the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Making it Home 3

watch?feature=endscreen&v=PVzljDmoPVs&NR=1 Music muse: David Guetta Falling to Pieces.

Stuck in his hovel of an office, stares out the window.

"Fraser!"

His head snaps round, "Yes sir."

She closes the door to the closet of an office. "We-"

Turnbull knocks on the door and pushes it open, "Sir we have-" She slams the door shut in his face.

The slam brings Benton to his complete senses. Rubbing his eyes mutters, "Dear Lord…"

"Benton?" She answers his mutter.

He doesn't.

The phone rings. Picking up and swiftly slamming it back down, brings his head up and look her in the eye. Neither can speak. Desire is written all over their faces. Not for the passionate need, but for … forever.

Swallowing, she grabs a pencil and tries to block out Turnbull's ramblings outside the door. "Meet me here," she quickly jots down an address and time. Grabbing his chin she warns, "Do NOT wear red!"

"Touche'," he breathes back. The words strike at the temptation. Her thumb caresses his chin and starts to lean in, but the pounding on the door reminds her of her duty.

"Don't be late." he just nods and she leaves.

Knowing his father is in the room, answers him before he can speak, "Shut up, Dad. I can do this without you."

"You didn't listen to me about Victoria," the ghost reminds from his glowering post.

Grabbing his hat, the son spits back, "That was low. Really low!" With that, storms out of the office with the note.

~~00~~

The next morning down at the rental stables, Margret strides in wearing a designer soft knit shirt, lightweight cotton riding jacket and her expensive jeans. She stops at the sight of the bowed Stetson. The body attached to it is between two horses oblivious to her securing the cinch.

Finished, turns lifting his head. He sees her. Crossing his arms on the other horse and saddle, he smiles, "Hello."

She can only nod. This wasn't what she was expecting.

Rounding, he releases a set of reins from the hitching bar. He holds them out, "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberties to rent us horses. It's a beautiful day," he pans his hand out to the open door behind them. Still she says nothing, nor moves. He turns and drops his tone to a personal level, "You said you missed riding." Then quirks to an amused tone to lighten the tension, "I figured you would be more comfortable on your own horse this time."

She takes a shuddering breath and shivers. He's done it again and touches her heart with the lightest taste of home. He waggles the reins again. Stepping forward, she swings herself up afraid for him to touch her.

Tossing on his daypack, flits to his own horse. She questions the pack with only her eyes. He gives a nervous wrinkle to his nose, "Lunch. I told Turnbull we had a private meeting to attend to today."

Without giving her a chance to counter, nickers to his horse and heads out the back stable door. Nickering her own, prances up to his side.

Once they are far enough away from the barn where no one else will hear them, she asks the loaded question, "What are we going to do?"

Shaking his head, he shrugs, "I just don't know."

She lays herself bare, "I can't decide whether I want to hit you or kiss you. I can't decide if I'm proud or embarrassed to be by your side."

He turns to her on that last one. Before she can say any more, he clicks and shoots ahead. Giving chase, she cuts him off to her horse's protest. Maggie pierces Benton's eyes, "I don't even know what to call you."

"Understood," and curls his horse's head to steer around her.

Maggie, totally confused tries to follow. And then he does… that. Curling his head down and back, looks past his own shoulder. With a wicked smile and a flash of his brows, nudges his horse to a sprite jolt.

Smiling back, she charges her horse to follow his. Racing on through the park path, he leads the way and curls round the lake. The horses are panting and beginning to tire. Bringing the horses to a slow canter and then down to a walk, they decide to rest the poor beasts.

Maggie slips down first. Benton follows and Maggie reaches for his reins seeing how he has the lunch. She presses up close enough to kiss him. Her loose hand reaches up to caress his cheek and lead into the kiss.

He releases the reins but juts his chin out of her grip, "I can't."

Curious she has to know, "Why not?"

The soft blue eyes dive deep and steal her soul, "For if I touch you, I will take you in my arms and make love to you under these trees like I have dreamed of doing back at home."

Backing away, turns between the horse and comes round the back of them. As he makes his way to the large oak tree, Maggie takes the horse to their water.

By the time she returns, he has the large plaid blanket laid out and lunch spread. Cheese of several flavors, crackers and sliced meats and fruit along with a thermos of hot tea. With his back to the tree, she joins him but just out of touch.

He starts the deadly conversation they have been avoiding for far too long, "What are your career plans?"

She looks down to her hands toying with her snack. "I don't know any more." She takes a couple bites and then bites the bullet explaining, "When I got to Chicago my plans were to use it as a stepping stone. I never expected to find a teammate. I've been on my own career path for so long that… no one else mattered. I didn't care who I stepped on to get ahead."

His head drops, "Ah."

"You screwed up my plans."

"Sorry."

She laughs at him sorry for screwing up her twisted and egotistical plans. "I don't know which end is up anymore."

The heavy silence washes over them. Only the sound of adjusting horses and leaves rustling accompany them.

"Will you give us a chance?"

"I can't." Now it's her turn to lower her head to his truth.

"Why not?"

"It could kill me," he tells his hands.

"I know it could hurt if it doesn't work out, but-"

His heavy sigh and tense body cuts her off.

"You won't risk it?"

He shakes his head, "I can't." With that cracks his cracker in half. The silence is heavy again. She munches again waiting for him to progress the conversation, but he won't.

Frustrated, she thrusts to her feet, "Well this was a wasted day."

"Wait" is softly breathed. She almost missed it. Turning she sees he needed more time than expected to compose himself. She waits.

He leans back against the tree and closes his eyes, "You saw my medical report when you transferred in." She hums her acknowlegement. "So you know why I wasn't there at my post when you arrived." He goes back silent.

So she fills in, "Ray almost killed you trying to stop a fugitive. He shot you in the back."

He opens his eyes and sears her with the truth and his own burning gaze, "He saved my life."

She scoffs, "He almost **killed** you. How can you say that?"

Shaking his head, he turns away in shame. "He stopped me from running away. My heart was running away to catch that train. I couldn't breathe with out her." He hasn't the honor to turn to his superior and show her he almost gave away his career, his service to country, and his family honor all for a fleeing dream. A lie.

Oh now she gets it. Sinking to a crouch before him she remembers the file, "Victoria."

He nods looking down to his hands fiddling with a fallen leaf. Between his knees, the bit of a floating tree twists, just as his heart does. "I know. I was a fool. She betrayed my trust. Set me up. Blew up my father's cabin he died for. She even tried to kill Diefenbaker… and still… I ran to her."

Maggie reaches out, but he flinches away, so she pulls back. "Only Ray had the fortitude to try saving me from a huge mistake." He sighs.

"Benton…"

"I can't let my heart run away again. It could kill you as well as me." Curling away, he stands and gives them space.

Maggie sinks to her knees and watches the honorable and proud man walk away in the shadow of his shameful past. No, it's more than that, his heart. He's not worried about himself. He is worried for her own career. He is afraid of bringing them both down.

By the time he returns, she has the near untouched lunch packed away. Finishing the strap, he reaches for the bag. But she doesn't let go, "Why did you turn down the transfer to Ottowa?"

He tightens his grip, "Don't tell Ray, but it was for you."

Her hand clamps down over the top of his, "Wait."

Her touch is too warm too much. His breath hitches. Finding strength he looks into her eyes, "Would you honestly leave your career for me?"

Her face falls. It's a question she has been struggling with herself, but hasn't come to an answer.

He pulls out from under her softening grip and rises, "Once you figure that out, let me know." Slinging the pack on, he looks to his meek superior, "I can work with you. I can protect you. I might drive you crazy, but the smell of you, the touch of you is driving me insane."

Looking up her own expression darkens, "I'll scratch Franchescia's eyes out."

He smiles, "She has figured out that I am unobtainable. She can try all she wants, it won't happen."

Maggie rises and presses on, "I throttle that bounty hunter for sleeping in your bunk."

A bit too smug he retorts, "I know. 'Baited breath' kind of gave you away." Then he chuckles and flushes, "There's a few I wanted to kick myself." To that she can join his laugh. "We should go."

She takes his hand, he allows her this innocent touch while they make their way back to the horses. Taking a slow long path back, they find things to discuss that don't touch on the heart of their problem.

Back at the barn, she slips down, "Now what?"

Stripping his horse he smiles, "Well I'm on duty for the rest of the day and night." With that, she begins stripping her own horse. Together they set the gear in the tack room while the stable hands care for the horses.

With a tip of his hat, heads away. "Benton, wait!"

She rushes up to him. He holds his hands up begging her not to touch him. Holding her own up, shows that she won't. "I have to know, are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not," he sags. How could she think that?

"Then what is it?"

His body moves before his brain can react. Wrapping his arms around her, he takes her mouth hard. Almost viciously. Most certainly hungry. Clinging to his leather jacket, she is powerless to do anything but let him. For he is fighting to hold back even though the kiss is sapping her strength with every pull.

Ripping away, they both pant. He flushes in sorrow for falling into that side of himself. Swiftly he releases her and nearly runs, picking up his hat on the way. Some how it had fallen off in the attack. Staggering back, she watches him flee. Not from only her, but also himself.

~~00~~

Back at his desk, he stares at the ring in his hand. Twisting it back and forth in the light, he watches the ruby twinkle.

His father is back. "So when are you going to ask her."

Benton doesn't answer. Watching the ruby nestled in the cup of a maple leaf, he ignore the question.

A knock at the door brings him round. Ray pokes his head in as Benton closes his hand over the forbidden promise. "Ready Benny?"

Slipping the ring into his desk, he nods, "Yeah."

Ray leans against the frame and just stares at his strange friend, "Are you okay? You've been acting very strange lately."

"Oh you know me," he stands.

As they exit the office, she looks up from her own desk. Swiftly they look away. Ben heads out with Ray. Ray looks to her. She's trying not to make it noticeable, but she is watching Benton retreat.

For the first time in a long time, he feels bad for her.

In the car, Benton is back to being unusually quiet. For a man in love, he is dying. Again.

"Benny, look.."

"Just go Ray," he closes the conversation.

~~00~~

Weeks of hell pass. The phone rings at the duty desk and Benton answers, "Canadian Consulate-

"Shut up Fraser! They just hit here!"

**CRASH**

Fraser looks up to see the main doors kicked in and they cut to the Inspector's office. "What the-"

Shot fired.

He was already moving. But he was already too late. Flung over the shoulder of one thug holds a knife to knocked out Maggie.

His heart stills.


	4. Chapter 4

Making it Home 4

Watching the three hooded men rush out the door with Margret tossed over their shoulder, pummels Benton's heart against his ribcage. Instinct tells him to move, but training and skill tells him to watch. As soon as they cross the threshold, the Constable moves. He almost made it out the door when another shot reports. Benton winces feeling the receiving end of the dart and then, crumbles against the mahogany door frame. The last thing he sees before blackness overcomes him, is limp Margret being hauled into a brown van… then nothing.

Benton comes round to Turnbull and Ray shaking his shoulders, "Fraser! Fraser!" they both jostle their friend and now superior.

With his head woozy and a bit nauseous, the seasoned RCMP officer waves off their hands begging them to give him space. To their credit, they do. "Oh Lord, what happened?" And then his heart clenches remembering. Shooting straight up, his stomach rolls, but logic and love has no time for his physical issues.

"Three men, brown 1980's Sports Van, fast acting tranquilizer. We have to go!" He rises and stumbles down the remaining steps. Ray grabs one arm and Turnbull the other holding him back.

"Uh, sir, where? Where are we going?" The innocent officer asks.

"Benny, he's right. We have to wait," Ray tries to hold his teetering friend back.

Benton whirls on his friend ready to launch into a rage when he sees the same angst on the American Police Detective's face that his own heart is feeling. "No."

Ray nods seeing his friend gets it, "Yeah, they grabbed Franny too."

Now Fraser sinks back down to a sitting position. This grab wasn't about the consulate or his government, this was about Ray and him. This wasn't political, this was personal. That most certainly makes it worse.

The two friends look at each other with the same worry. No one has to say it, but they both feel it, _What are we going to do?_

We have to wait.

I don't want to.

We have no choice.

Damn.

Yeah, damn.

"I've already got the team going. Do you need to call any one?" Ray tries to remind the Canadian officer of his Royal Duty now that he is in charge of the consulate.

"Right, phone calls." Carefully he stands, pushes their hands away and heads inside. Ray shoots him one last look. Both of them love these women and the knights in them are rearing up to charge after their sister and love, but with no direction to charge towards…

A curt nod and they are in agreement, they will get Franny and Margret back.

* * *

A few icy cold days later with the cat and mouse game all too common these kidnappers like to play, Ray and Benton find themselves before a condemned house. With Diefenbaker at their side, search and search the dilapidate building to which clues have lead them to. Finally, inside, they find the hatch in the floor. Dief scratching and whining for the treasures below.

Benton ruffles the wolf's fur with soft words of encouragement. Round and round the hidden hatch he and Ray look for signs of booby traps.

"I can't find anything," Ray finally says.

"I can't either. Dief doesn't look too concerned either."

"What do you want to do?"

Ben huffs wrestling with his logic and instinct again, "I say we go for it. He really had no idea we would find it."

"Alright. I trust you Fraser, you know that, right?" Ray nudges his friend's confidence.

"Wish I trusted me." Ben gives him a not so confident shot back.

"I'm not leaving here without my sister, with or without you. So you going to help me or not?"

"Alright."

With their bare hands they begin tearing at the boards. Even Dief claws and scratches away. Once a big enough ragged hole is made, Ray calls down, "Franny! Inspector? Are you in there?"

Margret calls back, "Vecio? Is Fraser with you?"

"I'm here," he sends his warm reply coming into view. Although it's dark in the hole, he could swear he saw her gleaming smile. "We'll get you out. Hold tight."

"Will do."

A few more boards are pulled away and now more light illuminates the situation fully. Sure it's the basement to the building, with the staircase rotted away. In essence, a damp filthy hole. From the looks of it, the women were thrown into the pit and sealed over with no plans to retrieve them. Francesca obviously took the fall harder than Margret. There's a gash on the side of her head now dried up but swelling nasty. Margret is banged dirty from her fall, but at least it doesn't look like she struck anything too hard on the way down. She has an arm around the younger woman who is clearly dazed and woozy.

"How are we going to get them out? This place looks like it's about to go," creaking and groaning is heard. Tags are all over the building about it being condemned. There's no question at all by the way the wind is blowing and the exterior walls are moving in the typical Chicago Gale it will go over today. Pieces of the roof are already falling down around them. "We need to hurry."

Fraser whips off his heavy blue wool long coat. Laying on his belly, lowers the jacket as far as he can. It's still not long enough. Margret looks to Francesca, "I'm going to lift you and you **will** grab onto the coat. Got it?"

"I don't feel so good," the light framed woman leans heavily on the ranking officer.

"I know Francesca, but you **have** to," she uses her forceful voice.

"Okay."

Grabbing the girl by her calves, Margret lifts her as high as she can. On her third try, Franny grasps the coat. With Margret pushing, Benton and Ray pulling, they get Franny out of the pit.

The house begins it's waning again. The roof begins coming down faster which only means the walls will cave in shortly without their horizontal struts. "Get her out of here!" Margret bellows.

Benton nods in agreement, "Go Ray, I've got the Inspector," ripping off his holster and it's cross chest piece.

Margret is already reaching up in anticipation. Ray wraps the long wool jacket around his fading sister and stumbles through the rubble. "Go Dief!" Fraser orders the pet.

Margret misses her first three tries for the leather strap. Crashing begins sending in the icy wind and dust though Ben's hair. Leaning over further, slams his boot toe into the brittle flooring as a foot-hold. "Come on," he barks his resolve and encouragement. He will NOT let her give up.

She tries and fails again. More crashing of timbers. "Just go."

He orders her with his piercing blue eyes, "Grab it MARGRET!"

That's the kick in the butt she needs. He just snapped all his confidence in her. He KNOWS she can do this and he will NOT let her give up.

Taking a deep breath, she jumps with all her might and snags it with both hands. Her pumps fall off, but hand over hand, he pulls her up. As soon as she can reach the edge, tries, the wood splinters making her hands bleed as it crumbles away. Still he pulls and pulls dragging her chest over the crumbling lip of the pit. Her silk blouse is shredded by the brittle wood.

Pulling her to her feet, he holds tightly to her shoulders so she doesn't fall back into the pit. Another gust of wind and the walls come crashing down. Viciously he rips the brass buttons through their confines.

"What are you doing?!" She can't believe he's taking his tunic off in a moment like this.

"Trust me!" is all he says forcing her to pull on his serge jacket as the building comes down around them.

With a slight bend, he scoops her up into his arms and runs following Deif as destruction rains down around them. She buries her face into his neck shielding her eyes from the dust and debris. He cants his head down letting his Stetson lead his path and keeps his eyes on the snow white tail guiding his exit.

With a blast of day light and a call from Ray; the wolf, the woman and her knight arrive at the detective's car side. The final rumbling brings the building to it ultimate demise. Benton turns allowing Margret to see her cell collapses in on itself. Instinctively, she squeezes tighter to him, he returns the grip and then respectfully lets his superior to her own feet.

Standing as dignified as she can in bare feet, starts to remove his tunic. He raises a finger of protest and she looks. Her shirt has been shredded to indecent scraps. Tightly she closes the too large tunic and flushes her gratitude. Respectfully, he only gives her a soft nod.

Squad cars pull up along with Lieutenant Walsh. With a one finger motion, the two officers and women make their way to him. Ray sighs, "Plan C Benny."

Only a nod comes from the Canadian.

Walsh hands something to Fraser and something else to Ray, "Plan C."

A final silent nod between the three gentlemen and Ray leads Francesca to his car driving away one direction. Benton opens the passenger door of the Lieutenant's car, and directs her elbow to the passenger's seat. Coming round to the driver's side, Dief leaps into the back, Walsh pats the Constable's shoulder and steps aside.

Putting the car in gear, Benton moves away in a direction separate from Ray's course. "Where are we going?" Margret finally asks.

"Just relax, Ray and I have a plan."

Laying her head back into the head rest, she blindly grapples for his hand. He slips it under hers, "I just want to go home," she squeezes.

"I know," he sighs back. But that's not where he takes her.

Pulling up to a fancy hotel, he puts the car into one of their parking spaces in the under ground garage. Stepping out, he takes her elbow again and guides her not to this hotel, but the one through the bushy hedge on the other side.

Heading through the employee entrance, makes their way up the fire escape. Still silent, Fraser guides them to a room. Pulling the key from his pocket checks the hall once more and lets them in. With a hand motion, has her stay next to the closed door while he searches the room.

Shakily she rubs her arms, "Fraser, I could really use a shower." It kills her to not be in charge of a situation but considering what has been going on recently, she knows the one person she can always trust his protecting her right now.

"I know," he tries to soothe understand both her physical an emotional issues while coming back to the main room with his all clear nod. "Dief, go with her." Without a second thought, Dief makes his way.

Margret does have second thoughts, "Ben, I-"

"Go," is all he can choke out. There is so much that wants to be said, yet they both know emotions are running too high right now to risk saying something really stupid. Lowering her head, she complies.

As soon as the water starts, he grabs the phone, "Ray? Nothing here yet, but my next step is Ottawa." Lazily he picks up the pen listing to his friend's response. "Yeah, she's being strong right now." He smiles weakly to a response, "Yes, I will be sure to tell her. Bye." With a final smile, sets the phone back into it's cradle.

Sinking down to the desk, he watches the lighting far in the distance begin it's turmoil on the landscape. Much like the havoc in his own chest. With another strike, he moves and hesitantly dials the next number.

Margret watches the dirt swirl on the floor at her feet as it makes it's way down the drain. Down past her scrapped knees, between her toes and down the drain again. Dragging scratched fingers through her hair, she pulls another dead cockroach loose. Shuddering, flings it out of her shower only to hear Dief crunch on it.

As gross as that is, it is a nice reminder that she isn't in here alone. He may be just a canine, but he is also very loyal a protective. Benton's best friend. Benton….

Her hand grazes across her chest, only to find yet another splinter to pluck out. Her chest is all scratched and prickled where Benton had pulled her to safety. Letting her fingers play over those marks again, she can still hear that shout from him all over again. It wasn't an order, it was a reminder that she has that strength within her that he admires so much. Bolster. That's what he does is bolster her in the dignity she has nearly forgotten she has any more.

The water becomes cold reminding her that there is still a real situation that needs to be dealt with. Drying off, she pulls on the hotel robe and cinches it taught. Dief leads her out of the bedroom bathroom through the doorway to the main room. She's just about to make her presence known when she hears him.

"No sir!"

That makes her still, gripping the door jam.

His back is to her as he faces both the storm outside the glass and the one at the other end of the line. Even on the phone he stands at attention as if his superiors can see him. She smirks until she sees him relax at the feel of Dief beside him. Sinking so far as to slouch against the desk so his hands can sink into the fur between the perk ears.

If Dief is at his side, that means Margret is near. His head turns from his companion to his love. His voice then growls to the phone, "Of course I am taking this PERSONALLY!" The words for the superior, but the emotion is for the woman within his sights. "This is _very personal._ They violated the sanctuary of a consulate. They invaded Canadian soil, kidnapped one of her officers and tried to get Canada to bend to their will. No sir, I will not give into them."

Margret can only smile to his courage and tenacity. Her cheeks flush to the second meaning to all those words.

"No sir, I will insure the security alone. No, I won't tell you where we are but I will have her at that meeting in time. Good bye." Promptly he resets the receiver.

She doesn't move. Raising his head, he just looks at her. So much passes between each other. The situation is far more serious than she first thought. On top of that, so are her feelings for him becoming deeper.

Slowly she makes her way to him. Opening his arms, he cups her sleeve and pulls her close. The terry clothed arms wrap around the white thermal torso whilst the thermal arms secure themselves to the toweled shoulders. The lights blink out as he pulls her damp head to his heart. Lightning floods the room while thunder tries to drown out the sound of his heart in her ear. Deif crawls between their legs under the desk.

"Coward," he teases the tamed wild creature. She giggles. "Well he is." The stillness is wonderful, but he knows he should not get comfortable here. A sin.

"Are you hungry?"

Lifting her chin to him, whispers, "Yes." He has seen that look before and once again caves, kissing her dearly instead of hungrily. Holding the moment while the world storms around them.

* * *

Late that night, she is asleep in the large bed with Diefenbaker snuggled into her front. Almost like a child with a large stuffed toy. It draws a smile to Benton seeing the two most important beings in his life so content with each other.

No, their kiss had not gone any farther. With another whimper from the over grown pup, the moment had been spoiled into a fit of giggles. Probably for the best, Benton sighs remembering their talk over dinner about her capture. Soon enough, the power came back on, but neither wanted it on, and thus he shut them back off allowing the serenity of each other's company wrap around them on the couch. Maybe she should have been afraid of the dark after the pit, but sitting here with Benton, she didn't.

The feel of her fingers playing with his during dinner nearly did him in. He knew he shouldn't get comfortable with her, but… it was too late.

So now here he sits, feet propped up on the foot of her bed standing guard. He's not asleep, just resting. And thinking way too much.

Awakening with a start, jostles Dief. Upright searching the dark room, Benton can hear her start to pant trying not to freak out. Dropping his feet, leans over the wolf and takes her hand, "Margret, it's me Ben. Are you okay?"

The wild looking in her moonlit eyes clearly states that she is not alright. Silence shows she is too proud to show her vulnerability. This is one of those strengths he absolutely admires. One of those strengths that got her this far in her career. The strength that got her labeled Dragon Lady.

With a tap to Dief, he takes the wolf's place. Curling into his body, her silent tears spill forth wracking her body. He clutches her tighter, laying her back down. Soon her tears are soaking his snow white thermal shirt. What she doesn't see is his own tears brimming. Softly he just strokes her strong back and knits his other hand into her hair keeping that proud head clutched to his chest.

* * *

The dawn of morning finds her sitting in the chair this time watching him sleep. It's a restless sleep making the wolf beside him groan to being nudged again. Like herself, his eyes suddenly pop open only to find her watching her this time.

"Sorry, I know I shouldn't…"

She stops him with a slick of her fingers and reason, "You're only human. When's the last time you slept?"

"Four days," he yawns and stretches. Dief joins his master.

Margret can't help but laugh a little at the 'boys' matching forms. Reaching over she ruffles Dief's belly too tempted to touch Ben's as well.

Turning away before she does flushes, "Sorry about last night."

Rising up, Benton brings a soft hand to her cheek, "Ray wanted me to pass on a message. Francesca said she wouldn't have made it without your strength and fortitude. So when have you last slept."

Margret's face breaks into a shy smile, "Four days," looking into his eyes they laugh together.

He's so close. Nuzzling into his palm smiles, "I could get used to this."

That's all he needed, and leans in further. So sweet and tempting, her lips easily join his in grasping onto today knowing how easily tomorrow can be gone.

Her hands find his ribcage and ask. His own arms wrapping around her body pulls, accepting. He know he just -shouldn't. But he has waited so long for a potential future. Who says she can't be it? He knows it's going to deep, her hands are trailing down trying to find the tails to his shirt. His own hands are burying themselves into her robe to keep from ripping it off. She tasting more than his comfort now. His passion is becoming arousal.

Yanking his panting head back, settles her out of his lap, "I-I'm still on duty, I can't!" He searches her face hoping that she will understand, "Maybe they are right, maybe I'm just too close."

She lets him know she understands he is not rejecting her just trying to stay focused by patting her hands flat to his chest, "I wouldn't trust anyone else."

Pulling further away from the temptation, he goes to the bathroom and closes the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Making it Home 5

{No, I haven't forgotten, just had my muse sidetracked,}

* * *

Returning from the bathroom with a washed and cooled face, Margret can also see the Constable Fraser-persona is back as well. Picking up the phone, he explains the plan, "We need supplies."

Margret returns to her title as well and uses his to keep this all professional, "Constable, what is going on?"

He motions that he will explain in just a moment and completes his call, "Lieutenant, 34, thanks." Turning back to face her, they are both completely focused and poised into their duty to Canada. Even though Margret is still attired in a terry cloth robe, she holds herself as if she was in serge. As does he even if his suspenders are relaxed and hanging from his waist.

Using his briefing voice, he dives in, "The only people who know where we are is the Lieutenant. Even Delvecio doesn't know where we are. We rented four rooms and blindly reached out to grab keys. Walsh has supplies stashed where only he knows where are." Then he gives an unamused smile, "They picked the wrong group to mess with. I will have you there to fulfill your duty." The next word slips out to his personal promise, "Safely."

Her brain is still wracking over all of this, "I don't understand. What is this all about?"

This next bit is going to be painful and he hates being the one to bring it forth, but then again, he wouldn't want anyone else to know this. So he takes a deep breath and tries to keep from looking her in the eye for he knows she will be embarrassed, "You represent the consulate. Sanctuary we have given a certain person. This meeting you -or we- are hosting, he finds offensive. So he figures if he can shake us up, then it won't happen."

Margret is no fool, and notices how Ben won't look at her. "There's more, isn't there? What are you hiding Ben?' The use of a nickname not only makes his heart flutter but also pang for what he has to tell her next.

"You dated this man. He's ex-Canadian Special Forces, but you didn't know this while you were dating."

She gapes, "You went through my-"

Pulling upright and tight he quickly defends, "No Sir!" and then drops his voice back down, "Ottawa had a profiler go through service records and pulled up this man who went from military to mercenary." This is where he swallows hard, not just for what he has to tell her but for the fact it's gong to hurt…a lot, "I recognized him. No one else knows the personal relationship you had with him a years ago, just I. I believe he was using you for your access to the Chicago Consulate."

The Inspector's whole body sags into a wounded woman at the weight of the information. Not just that she was a target for her duty to country but that she had been easily …used. Played. Betrayed by a patriot. Not just her, but Canada as well.

Benton turns away to leave her with her personal thoughts. He is well aware it's a lot to take in along with her new deepening feelings for her subordinate. Having been used and played as well, he knows how cutting this can be.

She's not sure how long the information stews in her heart and brain when a light knock at the door pulls her back to the surface. Benton peeks through the glass lens and sees Lieutenant Walsh with his trade marked nose rub. Swiftly Benton opens the door and allows the older police officer to slip in with a suitcase, suit bag, and a parcel of food. As soon as the door is secured, Benton takes the clothes and heads into the bedroom where Margret is still sitting pondering over the revelation.

Benton's heart sinks seeing how hurt she is as he sets the clothing down and prepares to leave her alone. She whispers him a thank you and he gives her a respectful curt nod, shutting the door.

On the other side of the door, Walsh pulls Benton further away, "How's she doing?

Benton shakes his head pulling up his suspenders, "I told her everything and it's a bit of a shock, but she'll pull through. Inspect Thatcher is a skilled officer and loyal to her duty."

Walsh smiles seeing Benton's support to a reserved superior. For himself, he has a lot of respect for the woman. She holds a tough job that has not always been held by women, much like his own department. It's not easy for her to be respected and still be human. She had no choice but to come off as an ice queen, but he is also no fool, there is a woman under there who has a soft eye for her subordinate. As stoic as Constable Fraser tries to be at times, he knows the kid has feelings her as well. Sometimes duty can be a real bitch on relationships.

Taking a deep breath, the elder lays a hand on the young man's shoulder, "Benton, we've known each other a long time," the younger one nods into the fact so the older continues on, "I've begun to see you almost like one of my own detectives. And as such, let me help you. I'll stay with the Inspector. Take a break."

Ben shakes his head feeling it's his duty to look after his country's officer. "I'm fine."

Ever so softly, the voice and second hand come up, "No, you're not. You are too close. I know you are good, Benton, hell I wish I had one of you on my actual force let alone a division of Benton Frasers," that makes Ben flush slightly. The seasoned officer presses on, "But she is your coworker. A close coworker… maybe more?"

Benton yanks back shocked, which only punctuates the sentence and he flushes. Welsh cants his head into the silent truth being confirmed. Benton pulls away. Walsh sighs and nudges, "Take Dief for a walk, go sit on the stair well, or even go to the roof. You need to clear your head before you do this tomorrow."

Once more the Constable tries to look his role but his shifty body, scratching his ear and looking anywhere but Walsh or the closed bedroom door gives it all away. Dropping to a fatherly tone, Walsh tries again, "Do it for me. Humor an old Lieutenant, please? I can't watch you get shot again over a woman." Ben's head falls to look at his boots.

Margret hears all of this while she reaches for the door handle. Instead of opening it, she just listens to what Walsh says next.

"Benton, it nearly killed my department to see you fall last time. They've never seen Superman actually hit by Kryptonite."

That brings the head up with a slight smirk. "Fine, I'll go change. Thanks, Lieutenant."

Margret takes that as her cue and steps into the main room. Without looking at each other, they pass. It's hard on Benton to leave Margret in the care of another, but he also knows Walsh is probably right too and swiftly changes into civilian clothing.

Tugging on his leather jacket, he lifts the Stetson too. Walsh tugs it out of the Mounties' hands and replaces it with a Chicago baseball cap, "Humor me, 'kay?"

Feeling naked with out the hat, he smiles a little to the tease. He can feel her eyes on him and knows he needs to say something as well, so he turns and prays his voice doesn't waiver, "Just a security check and take Dief for a walk. I won't be long, promise." So badly he wants to give her arm a squeeze.

So badly she wants him to touch her, but instead just nods. Dief runs up to her gives her hand a lick and then runs back to his master heading out. Margret gives them a smile and settles herself at the table of breakfast of muffins, fruit, and coffee.

* * *

Walking to the roof to get himself centered, all he can see is that train again. Like the wind up here, the wind from the rushing train buffeted him against her.

With a car backfiring down below, he snaps out of his muse. Like a shot, his academy training and heightened intuitiveness come into play. Scanning the area carefully, he sees nothing, even though he can feel it racing through his veins frightening him.

Carefully he makes his way to the street level and walks the perimeter. Yes, most certainly something is wrong, but he can't nail it down and thus, until he has more details won't detour the task at hand. Too much has been set in play for it to go array with just a irrational 'feeling' heightened by passionate emotions.

Taking a bit longer to purchase some heat & eat food checks around. Nothing. With a deep breath and careful eyes looking around, heads the long way back to the hotel room with his trusted furry companion.

Once in side, Margret jerks to her feet, "Well?! You were gone a long time?"

Walsh eases her nerves even though he can see it on Frazer's face as well, "You know the Constable, always into the details." Fraser says nothing which only confirms his suspicions.

Fraser shakes his head telling it's nothing and yet telling Walsh he can't pin it down.

"Better check on Ray," the younger officer finally lets out.

"Alright, only if you are sure?"

"I'm sure, Lieutenant," Fraser lets him go to see to his best friend and sister. Warily, Walsh does leave.

Benton stows the cold items into the mini-frig and hands Margret a bottle of water. After a deep drink to quell her parched throat she asks, "What are we going to do?"

His encouraging smile holds them both strong, "Our duty, Inspector."

Tightening down her own armor to keep her guts from quivering out in nervousness she presses back, "Yes, of course, Constable. Always."

Dief barks his own affirming remark.

The night passes with going over the briefing for tomorrow's meeting and restatement of security. Over and over they look for any chinks to the plan. Once that horse has been beaten again, they go over her notes for her prepared statements of the meeting. Margret finds Benton a good listener with some valid adjustments to her message.

This time, Margret is left to share the bed with Dief alone while the door remains slightly ajar and Benton takes the couch. The only one that sleeps though is the fluffy Canadian while the other two will themselves to rest.

In the morning, they dress. Margret pulls the suit bag, "Fraser, this is not a good suit for this meeting. Why did you pick it?"

Pushing into the main room, Margret catches Benton is pulling on his undershirt. There she sees the star scar on his spine from a past bullet wound he received due to his last lover. It stops her in her tracks just as he turns. She just watches as his hand reaches out and picks up the dark vest laid over the back of the couch. Without a word, he picks it up and pulls it on, then his civilian undercover-denim shirt. Her throat swallows hard. That's not just any vest and most certainly not standard for him to be wearing to a meeting like this.

Picking up a second bullet proof vest laying on the seat of the couch, he walks over to her, "A gift from Chicago's finest. Please."

Her hands take it, but he doesn't let go, "I know that suit isn't your favourite, but it would conceal this best."

She doesn't move either, "I knew you would find us."

With a light smirk he lets go, "I was beginning to have my doubts." Dief whines, "He of course never gave up."

With a smile for the canine, she remains looking up at the human, "Thank you, Dief." With the softness flushing to his cheeks, she turns away to do as he asked.

Shortly thereafter, Lt. Walsh returns, "Ready?" Ben holds up a finger needing one moment and the elder officer frowns, "Hurry."

Ben shuts the door and turns to her. Both of them know they are walking into a trap and can do nothing about it. They could survive or not.

Taking her shoulders into his hands he leans in, "Is there anything else important I need to hear?"

Her hands lightly hold onto his tight waist, "Hear, no. Important, yes."

Benton's eyes turn dark and he leans in to meet her rising parting lips. But he stops and breathes, "Damn, I have to stay focused."

Instead of being mad, she breathes back to her own voice of reason, "Me, too."

"Constable, Inspector, let's go." The final voice of reason from the hall breaks it for them.

With a deep breath and two steps back, they become the professionals that they both love.

Walking out, Benton takes point. Lt. Walsh takes the role as her escort. Benton strides ahead to give a better sight with Dief between them. Just as they reach the surface and head into the open, the first shot rings out.

Fraser arches back to the blow and then, curls, falling to the ground. Without even time to breath, second and third sniper shots hit their marks of Margret then Walsh. The way they all fall they can see each other. As to the pre-arranged plan, they play injured or dead. All three are in pain but know that look too well between law enforcement professional, they can still function.

"Go get them!" She hisses between gritting teeth.

Walsh grins his pride, "Get him Fraser, we are fine."

As much as Benton would like to reach out to her, he can see the tell tale signs of a retreating sniper. With a wink and a grunt, rises, staggers and dashes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Walsh then turns to his hidden microphone and dishes out orders.

Margret rolls to her side and chuckles, "Ruined this suit."

Walsh chuckles back and helps her to her feet. "Ready to face that meeting?"

She brushes down her skirt angrily and worried for Fraser, "Now more than ever."

* * *

Of course the meeting was successful along with Fraser and Chicago's Finest catching the bad guy turning him over to the join international authorities.

Later that day back in Margret's office, Benton is looking at her back. The back of the shirt is shoved up to her neck and shoulders while he rubs some salve on the nasty bruise.

"Vest or no vest, did he have to nail me in the brassiere strap?" He says nothing and she curls her head to check his reaction. All he does is bite his lip a little harder on what retorts come to his mind. She laughs at his reserve.

"Tea, sir-" SLAM, Benton's boot slams the door shut before he can see his superior officer half out of uniform.

Once she is tucked down with a curt nod, Fraser opens the door and coughs, "Oh sorry about that Turnbull, door got stuck. Thanks." He takes the tea and shuts the door again.

For the first time he has ever seen, Margret laughs to Turnbull's daftness. Fraser also let's loose his own amused smile pouring out the tea. Together, they sink to the couch and wince when their bruised backs touch the couch-back.

Margret slips her hand into his and squeezes hard, "Thank you." With a soft nod he says nothing more sipping his tea. She takes a sip of her own and then sets the mug aside. "I still need to tell you that important information."

His eyes go wide watching her push his mug filled hand out of the way of blocking her message. Leaning up, takes his lips firmly with her own. Benton's mug falls to the floor, so that he may deliver his own message back.

* * *

a/n I know, it's been a while and NO **this isn't the end**. There is much more coming. Just… I want to do it right and muse is a curious creature. I have it all written out in my spiral notebook, it's just being in the right frame of mind. I have botched other stories by trying to rush or push it too hard.


End file.
